


One of Your New Starts

by easternepiphany



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easternepiphany/pseuds/easternepiphany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels like Jeff’s jumped into the Grand Canyon and he’s just kind of falling, forever and ever and bottom is eventually going to hit but it’s taking too long. And then, suddenly, he lands. Lands on Shirley Bennett’s front porch with a suitcase and a newspaper ad that reads “ROOM FOR RENT.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Your New Starts

**Author's Note:**

> Yay a Home Economics AU! This story completely ignores canon and the fact that things happen after the events of Home Economics because rehashing canon is boring to me. So Debate, Environmental Science, etc are not underminded, but they're definitely ignored. Thanks to Libby for the encouragement/read. Also, this is definitely the cheesiest thing I've ever written. Sorry in advance.

Once upon a time, Jeff Winger had the money, the looks, the car, the job, and the women. Today, he still has his looks (even if he does have to lift weights in the Greendale parking lot) and the car (it’s a little worse for the wear but it’s still a _Lexus_ ). The women… well, there have been less of them lately and Britta still won’t sleep with him and he gave up sex with his Statistics professor for _Pierce_ , but he’s not worried because there are always women and has he mentioned the weight-lifting and the Lexus? Money, we won’t talk about that because his bank account is nothing but a downward spiral and one day the registrar’s office is going to catch on that he’s paying his tuition with airline miles. And he’ll have the job again; this whole thing is just a... a speedbump. That’s it. A speedbump.

But what isn’t a speedbump, however, is the pile of eviction notices on the kitchen counter. The kitchen counter he can only see through the kitchen window. The kitchen window he’s standing on the outside of. It’s more of a pothole or a crater or the Grand fucking Canyon.

And it feels like he’s jumped into the Grand Canyon and he’s just kind of falling, forever and ever and bottom is eventually going to hit but it’s taking too long. And then, suddenly, he lands.

Lands on Shirley Bennett’s front porch with a suitcase and a newspaper ad that reads “ROOM FOR RENT.”

\---

Shirley’s child support check is pretty meager—her ex-husband owns a stereo business, which, wake up dude it’s 2009, maybe you should just stock some iHomes and just get on with it—so any little bit of rent Jeff pays really helps. And _meager_ just happens to be his middle name these days. It’s not ideal, and those women he mentioned earlier? Well, he won’t be seeing much of them in the future. But it’s four walls and a roof and he doesn’t have to worry about having to pay the impound lot in order to have a place to sleep at night. And it beats Abed’s offer of the dorms because he is over thirty and bunk beds are slightly above Christian households on the Things that Will Prevent Me From Getting Laid list.

The worst part is telling the rest of the group. Pierce refuses to believe that something sexual is not happening between them. Britta smirks and smirks and Jeff can practically see the gears turning in her head, the things she’ll text him later. Troy and Annie share looks of poorly-masked confusion. Abed starts listing sitcom tropes that they’ll eventually encounter, the most horrifying one being one character seeing another one naked.

Jeff spends a lot of time _not_ thinking about that one.

Shirley ignores them, says there’s nothing wrong with two friends helping each other out. Jeff worries about a lot of things, mostly living with two children and all the praying that must go on in the Bennett household. He worries about dating and pull-ups and hair products and his carefully-crafted _routine_. He worries about spending an obscene amount of time with Shirley. He worries about how the group will definitely know all of his business now. He worries about how he’s going to have to buy pajama pants because there’s something creepy about only sleeping in underwear while in the same house as Shirley. He worries about jerking off and then worries about being an asshole for worrying about jerking off.

Finally he worries about Shirley’s stance on alcohol because he’s going to need a lot of scotch to get through this.

He calls the condo board and they let him into his old place to get his stuff. He could easily ask Troy and Pierce and Abed (and Britta, who would take extreme offense at not being asked to move boxes simply because she’s a _woman_ ) to help him, but he does it alone, lugging his furniture into a U-Haul and stacking it in a storage unit, picking and choosing what he’s bringing to Shirley’s, labeling boxes and loading up the Lexus.

When he’s finished, he’s left with an empty condo with hand-crafted Italian faucets and the knowledge that this might all be the beginning of the end.

\---

Jeff’s relieved to find out that Shirley recently painted the guest room; apparently it had been covered in thick floral wallpaper but, upon realizing that whomever she’d be renting to might not share her traditional yet timeless taste, she decided a coat of light blue would do better. It’s a decently-sized room with big windows that overlook the backyard and a comfortable bed (queen, though, not king, and Jeff laments that he’ll just have to get used to sleeping like someone who’s under six feet tall) and Shirley’s taste in furniture isn’t atrocious. Best of all it has its own bathroom. Jeff hadn’t been mentally prepared to share a bathroom with children or a woman.

Shirley gives him a tour of the house, introduces him to her sons, tells him dinner’s at six if he wants to join them, and leaves the room. Just like that. He’d expected a bit more from her, maybe offers to help unpack or decorate, but Jeff finds himself standing alone in the middle of his new bedroom. So he puts his clothes away and arranges his things in the bathroom. And then he sits on the bed.

And... isn’t quite sure what to do.

He can hear noises coming from downstairs: the boys doing their homework in front of the TV, the clatter of Shirley’s pots and pans as she cooks. The phone rings and Shirley’s voice floats up the stairs, talking about Jordan’s soccer game and her Marketing class.

Jeff feels really awkward and uncomfortable and it’s not something he’s used to feeling. Is he supposed to sit on the couch and watch cartoons with the boys? Is he supposed to offer to help Shirley set the table?

So he does none of these things. He slips down the stairs and out the back door with a hurried “Bye!” and gets in his car and drives away.

\---

He’s halfway down the street when he realizes he doesn’t have anywhere to go. Because that’s the whole reason this started.

So he calls Britta to see what she’s doing but it’s Saturday and she won’t hang out with him on the weekends without another one of the group there. Annie isn't an option because there's something a little predatory about hanging out alone with an eighteen year old girl. Pierce also isn't an option because the last thing Jeff feels like doing is listening to sad stories about Pierce's glory days. Troy doesn't answer his phone. Jeff drives to Greendale and knocks on Abed's door.

Abed doesn't say anything when he answers, just gives Jeff that stupid knowing look he does.

"Do you want to... hang out?" Jeff asks with a sigh.

"How's Shirley's?"

“I think we both know that you know.”

Abed shrugs and opens the door wider. “Wanna watch a marathon of _The Jeffersons_? It’s on TV Land.”

And because Jeff can’t think of anything better than retreating back to the simpler time of rampant racism and Sherman Hemsley’s strut, he joins Abed on the couch that smells like old milk and cheese puff residue.

\---

It’s after eleven when Jeff creeps in the door, but Shirley’s awake, curled up in an armchair watching TV in a long floral nightgown. “Hi Jeffrey,” she chirps with a smile on her face. “Did you have a nice night?”

“Uh, yeah, it was okay,” Jeff says as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the hook behind the door. It sits next to one of the boys’ and freaks him out a little bit. “I’m going to head to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight! The boys and I are going to church in the morning. You’re more than welcome to come, if you’d like.”

“Oh, um, no, thank you. Night.” He bolts up the stairs before she can reply because he just saw Shirley in a _nightgown_ and it’s starting to sink in that they _live together_. He may like Shirley a lot—especially ever since they bonded over making fun of Vaughn—but he’s still not ready to have slumber parties with her every night.

This awkwardness continues for the next week, with Jeff spending a lot of time on campus and then in his room. He bugs the rest of the group for things to do after class to the point where he starts to hate himself for being so desperate. But by the following weekend, Jeff can’t take Abed’s raised eyebrow and the way Britta bites her lip to keep from laughing anymore. He spends Saturday with Abed again, eating Lucky Charms and watching _Kickpuncher_ while Troy takes some girl on a date.

“Is this going to be a thing?” Abed asks.

“I don’t know what Shirley does on the weekends and I don’t want to know,” Jeff answers, spooning another heap of mostly marshmallows into his mouth.

There’s a knock on the open door and Britta’s standing there, hip jutted out and smug look on her face. “Hey, guys. Just wanted to see what you were up to.”

“Shut up,” Jeff says.

“We’re watching _Kickpuncher_ ,” Abed says. “Want some Lucky Charms?”

“I’m good, thanks.” She takes a seat next to Jeff and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. “So how’s your new home?”

Jeff glares at her. “Shirley invited me to church with her last weekend.”

Britta bursts out laughing. “Did you go?”

“ _No_. And there’s these two little kids running around and, look, I haven’t talked to a kid since I was one. What am I supposed to do with them?”

“Don’t ask me. I have a nephew who hates me.”

“I like Shirley a lot,” Abed says. “I think you should have dinner with her and the boys. That would make her feel good.”

Jeff and Britta exchange a look and Britta shrugs as if saying _Abed’s probably right_. Jeff rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the TV but Abed’s words eat at him a little bit and he misses his condo and his bidet and the black hole where his heart now lies.

\---

Jeff goes running early on Sunday morning and Shirley and the boys are at church when he gets back. He makes himself coffee—and an extra cup for Shirley just in case; his guilt has been doing somersaults ever since yesterday—and sits at the kitchen table with the newspaper. He’s finishing up the sports section when the front door opens and he hears Shirley come in with a heavy sigh.

She rounds into the kitchen and gives him a tight smile. “Good morning, Jeff.”

“Morning.” It’s not until she sets her purse on the counter does he realize she’s alone. “Where are the boys?”

“My ex-husband decided he wanted to spend the day with them so he picked them up from church.” She opens the fridge and closes it without taking anything out.

“Oh,” Jeff says smally. “I made extra coffee, if you want a cup.”

Her face softens a little and she sits down across from him. “Thank you.”

Jeff gets up and pours her a cup, bringing it back to the table with the sugar bowl and the carton of milk. “Do they see their dad often?”

“No,” she says as she begins stirring in sugar. “They haven’t seen him in a month.”

“Oh,” he says again. He’s not sure what to say, because even though this Andre guy sounds like a total jag, at least he calls after his kids every once in a while. It’s more than Jeff can say about his own shitty dad. He doesn’t tell Shirley this, though. Instead, he slides the paper across the table and she takes it with a small smile.

“Andre promised to have the boys back by dinner,” she says. “I was thinking of making lasagna. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Jeff thinks about what Abed said and Britta’s shrug and exhales slowly before he nods. Shirley looks pleased, smiles a bit into her coffee and Jeff excuses himself to take a shower because he’s used up his reserve of morning smalltalk.

\---

Dinner that night is a quiet, uncomfortable affair. Elijah talks a little bit about his science project and his dad (Shirley’s tight-lipped _mhmmm_ s seem to go unnoticed by anyone but Jeff) and Jordan stares at Jeff as he’s an alien who crash-landed in the backyard. The clank of forks and knives against plates is deafening and Jeff finds himself shoving lasagna into his mouth a lot faster than normal (or socially acceptable or nutritionally okay).

“Do you play soccer?” Jordan asks suddenly.

Jeff swallows a mouthful that hadn’t been properly chewed and looks to Shirley anxiously. “I did when I was a kid.”

“Would you practice with me in the backyard?”

“Jordan, don’t bother Jeff. I’m sure he has other things to do tonight.”

Jordan looks a little dejected but doesn’t say anything and Jeff takes a long gulp of water. When Andre dropped the boys off earlier in the day—he didn’t come into the house and Jeff’s bedroom window doesn’t face the driveway so Jeff couldn’t even spy on him—Elijah had burst into the house talking about how much fun their day was but Jordan was oddly quiet.

“Actually, Shirley, I _don’t_ have anything else to do tonight. Jordan, I will definitely practice with you. I’m a little rusty, though, so you’ll probably beat me.”

For the second time that day, Shirley’s face softens toward Jeff and she mouths a “thank you” in his direction as Jordan grins and starts talking about his team’s win-loss record. Jeff nods in the right places and scoops more food in his mouth, knowing full well that he’ll regret the carbs and cheese while running around the backyard.

And it kind of begins a thing: three or four nights a week he and Jordan kick a soccer ball around the yard. Jeff’s a terrible goalie, but he’s good enough for a nine year old aiming between two plastic garden chairs. Shirley brings them lemonade for when they’re finished and Elijah cheers them on and it’s like some sort of weird family. And sometimes Jeff thinks about bailing, about setting up camp in a cheap motel somewhere or giving in and sleeping on Abed’s bottom bunk until he can find a place to live. But then Jordan scores a goal Jeff was actually trying really hard to block and invites Jeff to his soccer games.

(Jeff shows up purposely late to the game so he can stand off to the side and wears aviators to block his face. Then he realizes he looks like a child predator so he takes a seat on the very edge of the bleachers and hooks his sunglasses into his shirt collar. By the end of the game he’s shouting out cheers to Jordan and catches Shirley’s attention but she very politely does not gesture for him to sit with her and Elijah.)

The group still makes fun of him, though, mostly when Shirley’s in the bathroom or in class or leaves study group early to pick up the boys from her sister’s house. Annie’s the only one who tries to be mature about it, but she does laugh at Troy’s jokes about Jeff being the kids’ new dad.

But when Shirley is around, the thing to do is to press her for personal details about Jeff: Does he wear pajamas with puppies on them? Exactly how long does he stand in front of the bathroom mirror in the morning to make his hair look like he just woke up? Does he cry at Disney movies or harbor a secret love of _Gossip Girl_? Shirley, surprisingly, pretends to zip her mouth shut every time the group asks a question, but she and Britta usually exchange a look that means Jeff’s hidden and unironic love of _Gilmore Girls_ will be the topic of discussion in the bathroom later that day.

And Jeff tries to keep some semblance of normalcy in his life by hanging out with Abed (and whichever other members of the study group find themselves in the dorm on Saturday nights—mostly Troy, but sometimes Annie or Britta) and making bedroom eyes at Professor Slater during class and having dinner with the girl who works in the campus bookstore. But when he’s making out with Bookstore Girl in his car and she says something about going back to his place because her roommate is home, he has to backpedal and stutter through the excuse that his place is undergoing renovations. She can see right through the excuse (Bookstore Girl is actually pretty smart, much smarter than the girls he usually picks up at Greendale) and claims that it’s getting pretty late.

So Jeff goes home and Shirley’s on the couch watching a _Law and Order_ rerun. And without a word he kicks off his boots and flops down next to her.

“How was your date?” Shirley asks.

Jeff grunts noncommittally.

“You know,” Shirley starts, in that voice that means bad news, “there are a lot of nice, single women at my church. Women who are a little closer to your age and come from good, stable families.”

He shoots her a look and she shrugs. “I’m only saying, Jeff, that it might help you get your life on track if you had the love of a good woman to lean on.”

“Thanks for your advice,” he drawls as he leans his head back.

There’s a pause and Shirley shifts slightly. “You’re really good with Jordan,” she says quietly.

Jeff smiles. “He’s a good kid.”

“He didn’t take the divorce very well. And he’s having a hard time wanting to be around Andre. So it’s nice for him to have a male influence in his life.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job with them by yourself. You’re a good mom.”

“Oh, Jeffrey,” she coos, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “I’m glad you’re here with us.”

Jeff doesn’t respond because he’s still not sure how he feels about living in Shirley’s house. It’s growing on him, he has to admit, but he’s not sure if he’s necessarily _glad_ about it. But he watches two episodes of _Law and Order_ with her before they each go to bed.

\---

Shirley’s church holds a couples’ dance one Friday night (which makes no sense to Jeff because it’s not even remotely close to Valentine’s Day but apparently Jesus doesn’t discriminate against the calendar) so she decides to host a Single Ladies Bible Study at her house instead. She gets pretty into it, ditching her Friday morning class to bake cookies and make hors d’oeuvres and dance around the kitchen to a Beyoncé album she borrowed from Annie.

Jeff plans on being far, far away once Shirley’s friends come over but he gets stuck when Elijah and Jordan ask him to take them out for ice cream before they have to hang out upstairs for the night. He figures he can get them in and out of Dairy Queen and back home before seven-thirty, but the teenager working behind the counter drops Elijah’s vanilla cone and takes a billion years to make him a new one. So they don’t pull back into the driveway until after eight, and when they get inside, the living room is full of women chatting and laughing and drinking sparkling apple cider.

“Oh, the boys are home!” Shirley announces, and everyone turns to look at the three of them in the doorway.

Jeff raises a hand sheepishly. “Just dropping Elijah and Jordan back off. I’m headed out.”

“No, Jeffrey, let me introduce you to everyone!” Shirley protests. The kids—those traitors, even after Jeff filled them with sugar—take the opportunity to sneak upstairs and Jeff sits on a kitchen chair pulled into the room.

It doesn’t take long for him to realize that the entire thing is an elaborate set-up. Shirley’s not subtle enough to pull the whole thing off: she raises her eyebrows and grins too much and her Bible is still on the bookshelf in the corner. To be fair, the women aren’t awful. They’re all very nice and some of them are pretty. They’re mostly teachers or nurses and they all dress in conservative tops and long skirts and pretend to be genuinely interested in Jeff’s life at Greendale. 

After a long conversation with Katie (twenty-seven, brown hair, third grade teacher, loves puppies, sings in the church choir) Jeff escapes to the bathroom where he texts Britta. _Please, I’m begging you, call me with some sort of emergency._

_Do my Spanish homework for a week and I’ll think about it_ , she replies.

_Fine. Whatever. Just call me in two minutes._

He goes back out into the living room and just as Shirley brings yet another girl for him to meet, his phone rings pretty loudly and he looks up apologetically. “So sorry, I better take this. Hello?”

“What’s going on? Bad date?” Britta asks.

“Just at Shirley’s Bible Study, is everything okay?” Jeff speaks loud enough to be eavesdropped upon, but not loud enough to be obvious.

Britta laughs loudly. “There’s a party at the dorms tonight. I’m headed over there now, wanna come?”

“Oh no! Do you need me to come over?”

“Shirley’s trying to set you up, isn’t she? She said something to me about it last week. I thought it would be much funnier not to tell you and let you find out for yourself.”

“I’ll be right there, okay? See you soon.” He hangs up the phone and shakes his head at Shirley.

“Is everything okay, Jeffrey?” she asks.

“My friend Dan, who I used to work with, his wife just left him and he’s taking it pretty hard. I’m sure you don’t mind if I duck out and go check on him?”

Shirley has her Mom Face on and Jeff grabs his coat off the rack before she can say anything. It’s a terrible excuse; he’s not going to insult Shirley by telling himself she buys it. But she doesn’t call him out as he says his goodbyes to all the women or when he raises his eyebrow, trying to communicate that him leaving is only in response to her surprising him with a real-life episode of _The Bachelor_.

At the dorms, he spends the night on a bunk bed sandwiched between Britta and Abed, drinking Bud Light out of a Solo cup and watching Troy and Pierce do kegstands and Annie spend three hours nursing a Smirnoff Ice. It’s not a terrible way to spend a Friday night.

There’s a note waiting for him on his bed when he gets home. He stinks of beer and sweat from being crammed into a small dorm room and it’s not until he pulls down his jeans and flops onto the bed does he find it: scrawled in Shirley’s immaculate cursive, _I’m sorry_.

\---

Jeff’s just leaving Statistics after getting turned down by Professor Slater yet again when Shirley rounds the corner, calling his name. He stops so she can catch up and she’s a little out of breath when she reaches him.

“I need to ask you a favor I promise never to ask you again,” she says.

Jeff exhales loudly.

“My sister got food poisoning and can’t pick Elijah and Jordan up from school. And I have a midterm in my Marketing class this afternoon. Is there any way you could get them and stay with them until I get home?”

She looks a little frazzled and it’s not like Jeff has anything to do this afternoon except sit in the study room and listen to Troy and Abed debate whether they like popcorn more than potato chips (a three day ongoing battle). And he mostly believes when she says she’ll never ask him again because Shirley, although his friend, has been surprisingly good at keeping a firm line between landlady and tenant. She’s never asked him for help, or for anything at all.

So Jeff nods and Shirley throws her arms around him before grabbing a notebook out of her purse and scribbling down the address of the school and the time of dismissal. She thrusts the paper at Jeff and runs off again, shouting that she’ll call the principal to explain the situation so Jeff won’t have any problems and promises to call and check in later.

Professor Slater chooses that minute to saunter out of the classroom and she throws him a look not unlike the one Britta gave him when she found out about his living situation. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Winger,” she says as she walks away and Jeff throws his head back and breathes for a second, reminds himself that even if she agreed again to have sex with him, he’d have nowhere to bring her.

\---

Jeff isn’t sure about the rules regarding children and cars so he makes both Elijah and Jordan sit in the backseat, even after Jordan calls shotgun.

“Don’t uh, spill anything or touch anything or mess up anything,” Jeff says as he reverses out of his parking spot.

“Jeff, will you help me with my math homework?” Elijah asks.

“No, Jeff, you need to help _me_ with my _history_ homework!” Jordan interjects.

They start arguing and Jeff sneaks glances to the rearview mirror. He’s seen Shirley discipline the boys and she does so (very effectively, he might add) with a single glare. Jeff’s own mother didn’t do much disciplining, especially after the divorce. And Jeff’s dad... well, _discipline_ is one way of putting it. So he’s not entirely sure how to handle two fighting children, especially when Elijah reaches over the empty middle seat and shoves his brother against the door.

“Hey!” Jeff yells, slamming his hand on the steering wheel. He’s about to threaten them with turning the car around, but stops himself just before the words come out of his mouth. The boys stop fighting and the car is dead silent for a good five seconds. This catches Jeff off-guard a little and he clears his throat before speaking again. “I can help both of you with your homework. Stop fighting.”

The boys mutter apologies to each other and Jeff spends the rest of the ride home just breathing.

And when Shirley gets home from her midterm and finds Jeff, Elijah, and Jordan all sitting around the kitchen table working out math problems, the whole thing is too overwhelming and domestic and Jeff goes upstairs to his bedroom and that night he dreams about bachelor pads and Professor Slater and two little faces peering up at him.

\---

It happens, though, three months after he moves in. Jeff and Jordan are having soccer practice in the backyard while Shirley’s in class. Elijah does his homework at the patio table, taking breaks every once in a while to play goalie. Jeff dribbles the ball across the yard but Jordan steals it away from him, aiming a kick toward the goal that goes right past his brother.

Jordan cheers and Jeff gives him a high-five and the three of them take seats in the grass and long gulps of Gatorade. “You’re really cool, Jeff,” Jordan says.

“So are you,” Jeff replies, tossing the cap of his Gatorade bottle in the air.

“I’m cool, too!” Elijah exclaims. “Right, Jeff?”

“Of course. Jordan had to inherit his coolness from someone.”

Jeff doesn’t think much of it—except for the fact that he really does mean it; those kids _are_ really cool and surprisingly not annoying the way he’d thought they’d be—until Elijah looks to his brother wistfully.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if Jeff was our dad instead?”

Jeff’s heart kind of stops and then jumps into his throat and chokes him a little bit. Jordan agrees, laments that his own father doesn’t show up to his soccer games and Jeff’s been to every one since he moved in. And Jeff just sits there, panicking, because this is the last thing he wanted to happen when he accepted Shirley’s offer of a spare bedroom. He never wanted to be part of the Bennett family, or any family for that matter—the study group is bad enough most days—and this is it, this is the thing. Because Jeff _has_ to move out now, but at the same time he _can’t_ because he can’t be the second male figure to abandon these boys. He’s stuck.

So he stays quiet and the second Shirley pulls the van into the driveway he gets in his own car and drives away. He ends up on Abed’s couch again, watching him and Troy play Mario Kart. He hasn’t said anything about why he’s there, just showed up, said hello, and sat down. They’re too preoccupied to care that he isn’t talking, but when Abed finally wins, Troy slams down the controller and turns to Jeff.

“What’s up with you? You look like you ate something you think might be poisonous.”

“Shirley’s kids want me to be their new dad.”

Both sets of eyes widen comically and Jeff sighs. “Right? What the hell do I do about that one?”

“You could give in,” Troy suggests. “Marry Shirley. Be their cool stepdad.”

Jeff’s face screws up in disgust. “Pass. Abed, help.”

“Hmmm. Well, you could move out and cut all ties with them,” Abed suggests.

“I thought about it but... their real dad just left and they’ve seen him _one time_ since I moved in. So if I leave wouldn’t that be like—”

“Like another dad letting them down?” Abed finishes. “Probably. But you’d have to move out eventually, wouldn’t you? Or do you plan on living with Shirley until the boys go off to college?”

“No! Of course not,” Jeff says. He tries to think of a way to explain it, to describe what it’s like to help Elijah and Jordan with their homework, to see Jordan score a goal on the soccer field, to find Elijah sneaking out of bed to watch cartoons and joining him on the couch instead of telling his mother on him. To know exactly what it’s like when your dad doesn’t answer your phone calls and weekend after weekend go by without seeing him. And it’s not just that. It’s him and Shirley doing Spanish homework without the rest of the group to distract them. It’s him listening as she practices her Marketing presentations. It’s covering her with a blanket when she falls asleep on the couch. It’s having a friend who takes you into their home and lets you become a part of their family, especially when you don’t have one yourself.

And it’s why he has to leave. If there’s one thing Jeff Winger knows about himself, it’s that he’s not cut out to be part of a family like that. Not yet. He can’t stay forever, be their pseudo-dad and Shirley’s roommate-slash-husband. But it’s not because it’s rock bottom anymore. It’s because those aren’t his roles to take.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Troy whispers to Abed.

“Nah,” Abed answers. “He’s just having an epiphany. Right, Jeff?”

Jeff nods. “Call Annie and Britta and tell them to meet us in the study room. We have to do some research.”

\---

“Here’s a place,” Annie says, pointing at her laptop screen. “Dishwasher, hardwood floors. Oh, ew, communal bathroom, never mind. Is that really a thing?”

“Only in like, boarding houses,” Britta replies. “I didn’t think they had those in the suburbs.”

The five of them are crowded around the table in the study room, each in front of a laptop and a notebook, typing wildly. The goal is to find a cheap place for Jeff to live and then present it to him as “I know someone who knows someone who knows of an apartment” so Shirley doesn’t ever know the reason that Jeff moves out is because he’s a sap.

(Which: okay, when Jeff gets his own place again, he’s going to sit in his underwear and drink until he can’t stand and watch porn and bring a girl and have sex with her in the living room because this whole _caring about people_ thing can only go so far. He’s going to be at Greendale for the next three and a half years, he better not peak too soon on the Good Person Spectrum.)

Pierce wanders in every once in a while to give Troy computer advice while standing over his shoulder. They don’t tell him exactly _what_ they’re researching because they don’t trust he won’t blab to Shirley. Jeff’s already sworn the four of them to secrecy but he knows there’s a ten percent chance Troy will blurt it out one day and Annie gives him a knowing smile and Abed nods sagely and Britta’s back to that smug look and Jeff ignores them all and keeps searching.

It’s Annie that finds it, a one bedroom in a decent part of town. Wall-to-wall carpeting and utilities included and a clean kitchen. It’s no condo, and the faucets probably weren’t handcrafted in Italy, but it’s moderately priced and Annie excitedly writes down the phone number to pass to Jeff, who stands in the corner of the room and calls, scheduling a time to go look at it.

When Jeff goes home that night, he doesn’t say anything to Shirley about what Elijah had said to him earlier. Instead he solves statistics problems at the kitchen table while she writes a paper for her lit class. They sit in silence, breaking occasionally to gossip over Vaughn’s new band or the fact that Britta may or may not have had another sex dream about him (about which Shirley, regrettably, remains uncharacteristically quiet). They talk about Annie’s crush on Troy, about Abed’s latest film project, about what Pierce’s ex-wives must be like.

And when Jeff goes to bed, he peeks into each of the boys’ rooms, looks in on them sleeping. It’s schmaltzy and overly sentimental, maybe too heavy-handed, but that’s what he’s become. He vows to himself to still visit, not to pull the same punches William Winger and Andre Bennett did.

\---

The apartment is beautiful. Not next-in-line-for-partner beautiful, but definitely adult-community-college-student beautiful. Jeff puts down a deposit and signs the lease immediately. He takes the long way home, driving down every side street, trying to think of a way to break it to Shirley that he’s moving out. Half of his brain—the half he was just introduced to not too long ago—knows that this is as much about her as it is about him; she won’t be receiving his rent money each month anymore. He practices his speech, adds in a section about offering to help her find a new tenant, make sure his words don’t sound hallow or false in the confines of his own car.

Shirley’s cooking dinner when he gets home. Elijah and Jordan are watching TV and it’s just like the night he moved in. He fist pounds the boys as he walks past the couch and rounds into the kitchen. Shirley stands at the stove, stirring a pot of soup.

“Hello, Jeffrey. Chicken soup for dinner if you’re interested.”

“Smells good. Hey, can I talk to you about something for a minute?”

She sets her spoon on edge of the pot and sits down at the table. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he says as he sits across from her. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this. I found an apartment. I signed a lease.”

Shirley’s face is blank for a minute. “Oh,” she says finally. “Well, that’s great. I’m happy for you, Jeffrey.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with you or the boys. I love living here and I’m thankful that you took me in but it’s time for me to be an adult again,” Jeff says.

But everything he’s learned about Shirley since moving in with her has surprised him. She places her hand over top Jeff’s. “It’s okay. I understand, I do.” She pats his hand and stands up to return to her soup. “But you’re the one telling the boys.”

\---

The morning he moves out of Shirley’s house, he stands in the spare bedroom, the bed made up neatly and the dresser empty. He looks out the window into the backyard, where the makeshift soccer goal is still set up. He’s promised Jordan to come over twice a week to continue practicing and he knows it’s a promise he’s not going to break. Andre hasn’t been around at all since that first weekend.

He asks for their help, this time, all of them. It goes much faster with the seven of them and he pays them with pizzas and sodas. Elijah and Jordan help, too, lugging the lighter boxes and arranging Jeff’s CDs and DVDs on brand-new bookshelves (under the guidance of Abed).

He moves out on a Saturday but by Tuesday night he’s at the park for Jordan’s soccer game. He’s sitting in the bleachers next to Shirley this time, Elijah on his other side. Jordan scores two goals. The three of them cheer the loudest.


End file.
